Wednesday, December 2, 2015

Unmasked: Part 8: Skin to Skin

She obeyed silently, still holding her fingers. He waited until she was standing right in front of him, and then he reached down to loosen the wide belt cinching her waist.

"What are you doing?" she said, clapping her hands over the belt on either side of her belly.

"Well, you can't very well sleep in the dress. It's filthy. These beds don't get washed often, so we have to do our best to keep them usable." He slipped the belt free from her grip. "Besides, I prefer to sleep skin to skin anyway."

He whipped her around, gently draping her braid over her shoulder. The fabric released around her as he loosened the ties in the back. He pushed the dress off of one shoulder, resting his warm hand on her bare skin. She shivered, not sure if with fear or something else entirely. He did the same with the other shoulder and pushed the bodice down away from her body as his hands slid down her arms. The skin of his palms was rough against hers, but the sensation wasn't unpleasant. She sucked in a breath as his hands moved to her hips and repeated the process with her skirt.

Gently caressing a buttock, his fingers traveled over a welt. "A few bruises, but I think you'll survive."

Conna glowered at the floor.

"I can give worse and have done so in the past, so I would count this a blessing, if I were you," he said, a hint of mirth in his tone.

She snorted. "Blessing. Right."

When she turned around, he was lying on the pallet, the blankets covering him from the waist down. He propped himself up on his elbow and watched her. She noted how his eyes moved over her body. She wanted to cover herself, to hide her small breasts behind an arm, to shield the excessive swell of her belly. He stared hard at her, a look in his eyes she couldn't quite place. They seemed to glow in the soft lantern light. Another crook of his finger beckoned her to the bed.

She lowered herself to the bed, sliding under the covers. The fabric was cool against her skin, if a bit rougher than she was accustomed to. Rodrick wrapped one muscled arm around her middle and slid her across the bed to pull her back flush against his chest. Heat spilled from his skin into hers in unending waves. She could feel the hard planes of his belly, the crisp hairs tickling her back. His hand moved in slow circles on her belly. It was oddly relaxing. A familiar tingle started at the base of her skull and traveled down her spine. Slowly, she felt the fear bleed out of her.

She was perfect. Pale and plump, soft everywhere that counted. Vines seemed tattooed on her skin, starting at her left hip, curling over her belly and around her back to curl around her right breast. Her skin was almost the color of milk from years of wearing the modest dresses of the Kin, although he noticed the green shimmer dusted parts of her shoulders, breasts and hips. She might pick up some more color when he dressed her like a wolf. She would likely resist that. She was clearly displeased by her nudity. He could see it in her face and the tension on her arms as she fought not to cover herself. He wondered if she resisted out of defeat or rebellion. He wasn't sure which he would prefer.

He had the feeling she was softening a bit. When she'd looked upon his chest, her pupils had dilated slightly and her scent had changed briefly. He liked to think he was an attractive man. Plenty of women sought a place in his bed, but he attributed much of that to his position as alpha. There were benefits to belonging to him. Power to be had. Prestige. Many would hate her for filling that place, more so because she had no desire for it. Perhaps with enough time and coaxing he could make her desire him at the very least.

After a little while of listening to her slumbering breaths, he moved his hand from the slow circles he'd been making over the silky skin of her soft belly to gently cup her breast. They weren't very big, but they fit nicely in his palm. Her breath retained the steady rhythm of sleep as he kneaded the delicate flesh. She arched slightly into his touch. That was promising. His hand slid lower, grazing over her belly again to brush the dusting of hair over her mound. He draped a leg over hers as he toyed with the hair there, relishing the silkiness of it. He slipped two fingers between the folds of her sex, seeking out the bead of flesh that would stoke her fire. His fingers rolled slowly in small, gentle circles around the sensitive little bead. A small gasp escaped her.

He continued to massage her sex, delving deeper between the folds, bringing moisture to the surface. Her hips shifted in little movements, pressing into his touch. Her breath quickened. Rodrick continued his work, listening intently to her breathing, feeling this shifting of her body, the tension and release of her muscles. She awoke with a soft cry as her body released beneath his touch, muscles twitching, blood pulsing beneath the skin. He continued his gentle stroking, prolonging the release. She moved, trying to escape his probing. He clamped his leg down on hers and pushed his hips into her well-padded ass, pinning her between his fingers and his body.

"What are you doing?" she said, stifling a quiet moan between closed lips.

"Playing with my new toy." Rodrick pushed a finger inside her, careful not to press too deep. She gasped again. He pressed the heel of his palm against the place where her pearl hid beneath the folds and ground against the slick flesh in slow circles. Constantina arched, grabbing at his wrist.

He rolled onto his back, taking her with him so that she lay on her back on his chest. He wrapped each of his legs around hers and pulled them wide, exposing her to him. His free hand came to her throat, holding her against him with a steady pressure. It wasn't enough to cut off her air, but just enough so that she could feel the strength in his hand. In this position, he could feel even the tiniest movement, every hitched breath and barely audible gasp. He teased and toyed with her, listening for those subtle sounds of pleasure, learning her body. He finally found a stroke that had her pumping her hips into his hand. He sped up the circles as she arched higher and higher, muscles taut. She fell back against him with another weak cry, panting heavily as her body twitched in the aftermath of her second climax.

"Good girl," he cooed, nipping her ear.

"Fuck you," she said breathlessly.

He tilted his hips, sliding his cock back and forth between the wet lips of her sex. She stilled. "We'll get to that, just not tonight." he said, giving her mound a firm swat before rolling them back onto their sides.